In Memory of my Daughter

Before you read this, I want to gently share that this post contains content around pregnancy loss and stillbirth.

This next piece was written by our niece Hailey, and I do not say this lightly, we are so incredibly proud of her. Proud of her strength, her honesty, and her willingness to put words to something so many carry silently.

There are moments in life that change you forever. The kind you don’t move on from, but instead learn to carry. This is one of those stories.

She has taken one of the most unimaginable experiences and allowed us into her world, her love, her grief, and her journey. It is raw, it is real, and it is deeply human.

If you choose to read it, read it with care. And if this is a tender space for you, please take care of your heart first.

"An angel in the book of life wrote down my baby's birth and whispered as she closed the book, 'too beautiful for Earth.' "

In February 2024, my husband Dallas and I decided we were ready to expand our family. We had no idea that just a month later, on the 20th of March, our quick decision would become a reality! We were pregnant again! I can't begin to describe how excited we were. We told our friends and family immediately. I'm not exaggerating; we told everyone before I was even 6 weeks pregnant. That's how excited we were!

Fast forward to June 2024, when we found out our sweet baby was a little girl. A little girl! What a dream come true. Now comes the fun part of shopping for pinks and purples and thinking of girl names. Our 2-year-old son at the time was pumped to be a big brother. He practiced feeding his doll and "putting her to sleep" before his baby sister arrived. Things were starting to feel real! And to make things even better, my sister and I were both expecting baby girls, only 3 weeks apart! It was too good to be true.

This pregnancy was a whirlwind. It was much, much different than my first one. I just felt... different. I had horrible stomach issues (and I mean horrible) as well as this anxiety that would eat away at me day and night. I chalked it up to normal pregnancy symptoms. Despite how I was feeling, my baby girl was beyond healthy. Which of course made everything better. I had three ultrasounds up until this point and a few appointments with my OBGYN and there were no issues whatsoever. I was growing the healthiest baby possible.

Then comes August 2024. I am now 6.5 months pregnant.

I will never forget the evening of the 14th. I was lying in bed while my husband was finishing a workout in the room next to me. I was just about to fall asleep when I noticed how active my baby was! She was kicking me harder than she ever had and was moving around like crazy. I texted my husband to quickly come feel my stomach. He rushed into the room and as soon as he put his hands on my stomach, she quieted down. Little did I know that would be the last time I ever felt my little baby girl move.

I woke up on the 15th and went about my day like any other day of the week. Reading in the morning, breakfast with my son, then playtime. Just before lunch, we went on a nature walk with a close family friend of ours and her 3 children. Near the end of our walk, her 3 year old at the time asked if she could put her hands on my tummy and feel my baby. Once she put her tiny little hands upon my tummy, a realization hit me. Hmmm... baby girl is being extra quiet today. It must be all the walking I'm doing. I've heard that when you're more active, your baby can be quieter. I didn't think anything of it. When we got home, I put my son down for a nap and had some quiet time. We had a big weekend ahead of us. We were having our "family weekend" where all of us come together and eat, play games, let the kids run amok, have bonfires etc. My mind was focused on baking cookies to bring for the weekend, packing up everything, and leaving the house somewhat clean.

Fast forward to the morning of the 16th. I woke up feeling excited for the weekend! I rolled out of bed and immediately started to get ready for the day and finish packing up. I remember putting on Post Malone's new album because it came out that day. I was in my own little world when reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I'm not joking, everything came crashing down. The thought "I haven't felt my baby move in a while" swallowed me whole. I sat down, had a sugary snack and then proceeded to lie on my side and poke my belly over and over to see if I could get her to move. Crickets. Absolute crickets. I called my mom and started to cry. I managed to say "I think I need to go to the hospital. I haven't felt her move in a long time.” Thankfully, my mom was great. She stayed calm and called my sister to come watch my son so I could go to the hospital.

On my way there, I just kept thinking, "yeah, right.

Babies don't just die. This is fine. Everything will be fine. I'm going to get there and she's going to start moving around and we're all going to laugh about it!" I thought maybe I was being dramatic. Maybe I was too busy to notice that she actually was moving around; I just wasn’t paying attention. I texted my husband that there was an emergency and that he needed to meet me at the hospital.

We walked through the doors and I couldn't stop crying. It was then that I had a very strong feeling that something was wrong. They sent us upstairs to labour/delivery and a young nurse took us to a room. I explained that I hadn't felt my baby move in 2 days. She put the Doppler on my stomach and absolutely nothing happened. No heartbeat was detected. I LOST it. I started wailing. I was horrified. She told us she would be right back with the doctor. He came in with an ultrasound machine to take a look. As soon as he put the wand on my stomach, he said "here is your baby's heartbeat. The reason you are not feeling movement is that you have an anterior placenta." But I could see my baby on the screen. She was NOT moving. She looked to be lying at the bottom of my uterus. It was not a good picture. I was confused and had no idea what to say. Okay...? What? Why was I feeling so much movement up until this moment? Is she still alive and well? Everything is good, then?

He ordered an ultrasound on the first floor of the hospital to take a closer look, just in case. I then called my mom and mother-in-law to say that everything was looking positive. My baby girl was still alive! Her heart was beating. The relief my husband and I felt was immense.

We went down for the ultrasound, and that's when things started to not feel so good again. The ultrasound technician was extremely quiet and didn't allow my husband in the room with me. She also didn't ask if I wanted to hear her heartbeat... which they normally do. She told us that it would be best if we went back upstairs to labour/delivery to wait until my OBGYN reviewed the ultrasound results herself. My heart dropped. I knew what that meant.

My OBGYN came into the room with a smile on her face. We chatted about how smoky it was outside and how badly I needed a coffee. It all felt so normal! It made me feel good. But then came the results from the ultrasound. My baby girl's heart rate was only 118bpm when her usual heart rate was around 170bpm. She also told me that there was fluid around her heart. That could mean multiple things. She may have a heart defect that could correct itself (she mentioned how normal heart defects are), or it could be possible that I'm anemic, and that's why she isn't moving as much and the fluid is building up. She then sent us to Winnipeg immediately to get a more detailed fetal assessment. But before we left, my OBGYN reminded us that whatever is happening to our baby will most likely be able to be fixed.

We left Brandon feeling incredibly hopeful. Anemia? That's fine! I can fix that easily. A heart defect that can fix itself? Oh gosh, there are such worse things. My doctor and the nurses also had high hopes. They said they would see me back in a few months to deliver a healthy and thriving baby girl. I believed them. 

Our drive to Winnipeg, if you can believe it, was amazing. We got McDonald's before we left because neither of us had eaten that day. We FaceTimed my family and talked to my mom, sister and my son and chatted about how we'd be back home in no time. My husband and I told stories and laughed. The vibes were very, very good.

We made it to the Health Sciences Centre, and we were taken into a room immediately. I dress in a gown and wait on the bed for the doctor to come and get us. She comes into the room, and I feel a closeness with her instantly. You can tell she is an incredible doctor. As she walks us to the ultrasound room, we give her the backstory and the reason why we're here. I lay down on the bed, and she said to me, "Let's take a look at what's going on. This ultrasound may take a while." I recall feeling hope when she said that. To me, that meant my baby was fine; she just wanted to take an in-depth look at why my baby wasn’t moving as much. The second the Doppler touches my tummy, I gasp. I see. I see my lifeless, sweet baby girl and her heart that is no longer beating. I can see on the screen that she is no longer moving. I see that my angel has gone to heaven. I know. I feel it. 

I say out loud, "noooooooo." I scream. I cry. I take the doctor's hand and pull her to me. She says to my husband and me, "I am so sorry, but it looks like your baby didn't survive the trip here." Whatever was ailing your baby has taken her life." I am heartbroken. I have never in my entire life felt this pain. I am hyperventilating at this point, and so is my husband. The doctor leaves the room to let us grieve. We are holding each other and sobbing. She comes back to do an amniocentesis. I am completely numb. I don't move or speak. I watch her scroll over my baby with the wand and take pictures of her entire body.

After the ultrasound and amniocentesis, we are allowed to go home. We call our respective families and let them know that our girl has gone to be with God. I hope I never have to make that phone call again. My husband and I drive home in silence.

The following day, I got a phone call from the hospital in Brandon to talk about giving birth and what's going to happen before and after. I was to go in the following day to take a pill to detach my placenta from my uterine wall. It was a difficult phone call. Everything felt difficult, really. I was carrying a baby inside of me that was no longer living. How am I supposed to live with that? Seeing my pregnant belly and still having pregnancy symptoms, but knowing the reality was horrible. Horrible, horrible.

I had to remain pregnant with my deceased baby still inside of me for 3 full days. For 3 days, I kept thinking I was feeling my baby move when I actually wasn't. For 3 days, I mourned what could have been. For 3 days, I grieved my baby while my body continued to change and grow.

My birth story is something I will never forget. I will carry the memories of it with me until the day I die. It goes like this:

We arrived at the hospital at 10 am on August 19th to start the process. I remember sitting down in one of the chairs to wait for the nurse to come and get us. A new dad walked by us looking incredibly happy (obviously), and I started to sob. It wasn't his fault whatsoever; I was just envious. The nurse came around the corner, and both she and my husband helped me walk to the room because I truly couldn’t cope. 

The nurse let me dress in my gown and helped me get as comfortable as I could in the crappy hospital bed. I brought my own cozy blanket for added comfort. I snuggled up with an outfit we bought for when my girl would be born, as well as one of my son's stuffed animals. The nurse then gave me a dose of misoprostol to start inducing labour. We talked about what it will be like to deliver a stillborn baby and what will happen afterwards. I had a million questions.

For the next 10 hours, I took a pill every 4 hours just for NOTHING to happen. Keep in mind, I was not allowed to eat or drink anything other than small sips of water. At this point, I was exhausted and starving. Finally, at 8 pm, I was given the go ahead to eat something. The doctor also started giving me two doses to really kickstart labour.

After having something to eat, things started to kick in. My husband and I were cuddling on the bed watching Property Brothers on the small TV, when I started to feel intense contractions. After around 2 hours of severe and consistent contractions, I needed some intervention. My nurse gave me an IV drip of morphine to help with the pain. Let me tell you, it did absolutely nothing for me.

I was so incredibly tired, sad and just plain done. I was ready to have my baby and get all of this over with. I was ready to have her in my arms. At 1 in the morning, I was given a second dose of morphine through an injection in my hip because the pain was becoming unbearable. I was just starting to feel relaxed and was close to falling asleep when I got the urge to use the bathroom. I sat upright and quickly got off the bed. I tried making it to the bathroom but wasn't fast enough. I started projectile vomiting everywhere. I abruptly sat down on the toilet but then screamed out "I NEED TO PUSH!" 

I quite literally ran to the bed, hopped up and got into a labouring position. My water broke and I started to push. There was no time to get the doctor so my nurse helped deliver her. My little babe came fast. One second I was pushing and the next she arrived into the world. Her umbilical cord was very short, so she wasn't able to be put upon my chest right away, but as soon as my husband cut the cord, she was there in my arms, exactly where she was supposed to be. 

Lettie Ophelia Rose Loewen was born at 1:56 am on August 20th, 2024. She weighed 1lb 13.8oz. She was 12.5in long. She was perfect. She IS perfect.

She was very cold. And very swollen. But God, was she beautiful. I wanted every nurse and doctor available that night to look at her and see what I was seeing. I was in awe. How could a baby so beautiful be taken from me? Nobody had an answer.

The next few hours are quite a blur as I was continuously vomiting and falling in and out of consciousness. I do remember being SO excited that she was born. I remember thinking she was the most beautiful baby girl I'd ever seen. I remember telling the nurses how I know for a fact her favourite colour is pink, all shades of pink. I remember calling my mom at 2 am to tell her she was born and that she was so pretty. I was beyond proud to be her mom. I was also proud of myself for surviving through this terrible experience. 

It’s hard to describe the feelings involved with giving birth to a baby that is sleeping. I would have done anything to hear her cry. To have her wrap her little fingers around mine. To see her open her beautiful eyes. I would’ve given her my last breath so that she could’ve taken her first. 

The following day was beautiful. We spent hours holding her, singing to her, kissing her, talking to her, rocking her. Our favourite songs to sing to her were “You Are My Sunshine” and “Over The Rainbow”. We continuously told her how much we loved her and how we wished so badly she didn't have to go. I felt like I had failed her. But I also knew there was a reason why she had to go and be with God. God needed an angel, and my angel was chosen. 

Saying goodbye was hands down the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Walking out of the hospital with empty arms was unbearable. But at the same time, I knew it wouldn't be the last time I saw her, as we were going to the funeral home in a few days to see her again. That helped a little bit. It was also nice to go home and begin the grieving process in our own space and with our family. Being freshly postpartum, home is the best place to be.

Two days later, we arrived at Brockie Donovan, the funeral home, to say our final goodbyes. She was freshly clean from a bath and swaddled in blankets to keep her nice and comfortable. I truly couldn't believe how beautiful she was. It was hard knowing we had to say goodbye, but I felt comfort knowing I was leaving her with a few keepsakes from home. She was being cremated with a stuffed bunny I had from when I was a little girl, a children's book I received from my parents, and mittens from when her brother was little. This way I knew she was not alone… 

The love and support we received from our friends and family were, in simple terms, incredible. We thank each and every one of you from the bottom of our hearts. Lettie is so loved, and I know she always will be. Please continue to talk, think and pray about her. 

Not a day goes by that I don't think about her.

She is always on my mind. I think of her sweet little face and how she has the exact same lips as her sister does now. I wonder what she would have looked like as she continued to grow. What her voice would sound like. What colour her eyes would be. Would she maybe look like me? What kind of things would she be into? Barbies? Books? Dolls? These are some of the things I think about daily. The what ifs. How can I not?

This is for you, Lettie. I hope you never forget how much we miss you, and how honoured we are to be your parents. We will never stop talking about you.

You will always be our first daughter. Your siblings will always know they have a sister in heaven. You will continue to be a part of our lives forever. I cannot wait for the day I get to see you again. I crave hearing you call out “mama!” when I get to heaven. I crave you running into my arms and having your long, blonde hair wrap around me. 

The 6.5 months that I carried you were the best 6.5 months of my life. I would choose to carry you for the rest of my life if I could. But for now, I will carry you in my heart, always and forever.

"Little dove, I love you so, but I know you had to go. So spread your wings and fly my love,

soar above the world, my dove. Paint the sky in indigo, let your graceful colours flow, and

I'll search the sky for your rainbow."